


Goodbye, Rose

by Try2CatchMe



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, I need to stop writing Doctor Who fics based on gifsets immediately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Try2CatchMe/pseuds/Try2CatchMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He should know better after all these years, nothing in the universe ever happens just the once.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye, Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this lovely (and heartbreaking) gifset: http://c-osimaa.tumblr.com/post/57984077401/musicalfaith1219-a-girl-who-waits

He really knows he should have just stayed in the TARDIS. Even with all he's seen, it's difficult to believe he wound up exactly here, in this universe yet again. He should know better after all these years, nothing in the universe ever happens just the once.

She's not hard to find, even when he promises himself a dozen times he's not going to look. It's the middle of the night, he doesn't know what he's expecting as he paces back and forth in the street in front of the house.

And it's a normal house too. Two stories, a little garden. It looks like a home, which he supposes it is, after all.

The back door opens right up under his screwdriver's hum and a calendar in the kitchen tells him "John" is on a trip until three days from now. There are pictures all over the den. They look happy, that's good, even if it hurts.

He's just nearly convinced himself to go, it's not like he's going to be able to talk to her. But then he hears the faintest sound upstairs- the quiet cry of a baby that will turn into proper wailing in seconds.

He's already taking the stairs, two at a time, silent as he can, by the time he realizes he's doing so. If she wakes up, there's no way he'll be able to leave without saying anything.

The nursery is easy to find- the door is cracked open and a warm nightlight fills the room, spilling out into the hall. He's already making shushing noises as he slips inside and sees the baby wriggling in the crib.

"Hello," he whispers quietly, fingers folding over the bars of the crib. The boy inside focuses on him immediately, crying dying off in consideration of this new face, "I'm the Doctor. I'm just popping by, don't worry. We need to let Mummy sleep."

Unimpressed, the baby's face scrunches up again and he starts to squirm, threatening to start crying again anyway and bring his Mum down to see the strange man in the nursery. The Doctor almost laughs at the thought, she'd probably brain him with a lamp.

Gently, he picks the little boy up, who quiets just as soon as he's being held, "You're a typical Tyler boy, you know." Now the baby's staring at him and the Doctor's going to have to soothe him back to sleep.

He bounces the boy gently while he talks, still softly so as not to wake anyone else, "I travelled with your Mum, you know. Wanna see what she saw?"

Slipping his screwdriver out of his pocket is easy enough and pointing it to turn the simple nightlight into a galaxy of stars is more satisfying than it should be. The baby had been in the midst of trying to fit his whole fist into his mouth, but now is looking at the changed light and has entirely forgotten that his hand is still mostly in his mouth.

Laughing just a bit, he bounces the boy some more, "You like it, don't you? She _loved_ it." The baby starts to slump just a bit against his shoulder and the Doctor rests a hand on his back to hold him steady as he starts to drift away, still talking as his hearts start to ache for this, "And I loved her. But I had to let her go," he presses a gentle kiss to the baby's head as he turns to place the sleeping child carefully in the crib, "She was better off without me."

Just barely has he put the baby inside when he hears something from the doorway, a desperately muffled sob. His hearts managed to somehow both plummet and kick into overdrive as he slowly turns around.

He's pretty sure she hasn't change even a little, but she's crying pretty hard so it's difficult to say for certain.

Wringing his hands, unsure what to do, even though what he _wants_ to do is go to her immediately, he starts talking, "I was just- the TARDIS, I should-"

Rose blatantly ignores his stammering. He's frozen in place, so she takes the steps for the both of them.

This may be a different body, but she folds into his arms as perfectly as she always has and holds on. He doesn't know what kind of crying this is, good or bad, but he feels it too, building in the back of his eyes and throat and he finally manages to force his arms to close around her as well, clutching as tightly as he can without hurting and burying his face in her hair.

It's hard to say exactly how long they stay there, but after she pulls back, pushes her hair out of her face, looks up at him, and asks, voice rough, "How much time do you have?"

Beating down the first ten things he wants to say to that, he manages, "The TARDIS should be ready by dawn."

She nods, absently tugs his coat straight, and drags him downstairs.

Making tea is the general go-to for keeping hands busy, but while Rose is getting the milk from the refrigerator the Doctor sees fish fingers and custard and just can't resist.

"Do I even want to know what you're going to do with those?" the smile on Rose's face is welcome, even though her eyes are still red.

The Doctor feels a smile tug at his lips in return while he explains, "When I first regenerated, I fell into a little girl's backyard. She was home alone, I was hungry and trying to figure out my new tastebuds. She travelled with me sometimes, when she was older, her and her husband."

"So you haven't been by yourself?" And Rose just looks and sounds so relieved that his chest aches again, but in a good way now.

He shakes his head until he can trust himself to speak, to not tell her about New York, "No."

"Good," she nods, sitting on the counter, "What was her name?"

"Amelia," he says, and it's something else that hurts in a good way to say, "Amelia Pond."

"Amelia Pond..." Rose says the name slowly, like she's tasting it, before smiling again, "Sounds like a name in a fairy tale."

He laughs and beams, "It does, doesn't it?"

She makes him talk. Well, not really. She prods him along when he drifts into silence, but mostly the words pour out of his mouth, like he's been saving them just for her and didn't know it.

When it's time for him to go, she hugs him tightly in the doorway, like she might never let him go, until she does. He takes a few steps away until she calls him.

She's crying again, he is too, a little, but she forces a smile, "Goodbye, Doctor."

Goodbyes hurt more than anything he's ever felt, he despises endings, but he remembers Sarah-Jane making him say it and Amy making sure those were her last words to him. He realizes that even though he hates them, goodbyes are a kindness, a mercy killing of worry and anticipation. They mean that, despite never seeing each other again, the ones saying them won't forget. It's a way to remember something with less pain.

He still hates them, but it's not as hard as it used to be to give them.

"Goodbye, Rose."


End file.
